P left me my very own key to his house today. Keys and personal spaces are not a huge deal for us, I gave him a key a few months ago, but it's still fun!
Monday, June 28, 2010
A key!
P left me my very own key to his house today. Keys and personal spaces are not a huge deal for us, I gave him a key a few months ago, but it's still fun!
Friday, June 25, 2010
Long Overdue
Lots of thing have been happening in the last weeks. Lots of ice cream, hanging out with friends, Xavier Dolan's new film, parents arriving, graduating, having fits, laughing them off, working, not working, taking driving courses and reading Elizabeth Gilbert's new book.
I've been coping with all these things relatively well. One strange thing that happened after my graduation supper is me having a total fit on the corner of Prince-Arthur and St-Urbain. It was me going from zero to 500 in a fraction of a second. It was a moment that has probably been building up for years. Me, walking with my mom and P, making a comment on how bratty my half-brother had been during the post-graduation family supper, them responding with 'but he's only twelve' and my reaction exploding out of nowhere. I threw the roses I had received on the ground and yelled 'I hate this kid!' storming of on St-Urbain and not looking behind, but not before I ripped my arm away from P who was trying to calm me down. I wondered if he would come running for me during a split second, but it's better that he didn't. My mom might've gotten lost, and I would have channelled my physical reaction onto him.
Like I said, this didn't happen from one isolated moment and honestly it's too long and complicated to explain here, but to summarize, it's largely about the lack of respect that this spoiled kid shows towards his parents, and the fact that he takes them so much for granted even though he's so lucky to have them both around. This is only the tip of the iceberg, but a few friends have remarked that this anger is probably a transference of anger that I have towards my parents, and not actually anger towards my brother. I'm not sure how I feel about that hypothesis.. since I feel very aware of my emotions towards my dad, and they never manifest themselves so violently.
Either way, I got home. My mom was there. I didn't see P's shoes so I thought for a second maybe he left instead of staying over that night. He had gone to try to find me. I called him, he came back. I hashed out some ideas with my mom and by the time he got back I was feeling better. He made me talk about it a little, but eventually just made me giggle. All in all, i'm somewhat glad the outburst happened.. though I wish it would've happened at another time. Now i'm intrigued by this side of me i've never seen before.
My mom was lovely and awesome to be around, and it was nice to have everybody come together around a happy occasion. It feels fun to have graduated. To be done with that chapter of life. I have a feeling of endless possibility right now, which is nice.
I feel like letting out a big 'ahhhhh'.
I've been coping with all these things relatively well. One strange thing that happened after my graduation supper is me having a total fit on the corner of Prince-Arthur and St-Urbain. It was me going from zero to 500 in a fraction of a second. It was a moment that has probably been building up for years. Me, walking with my mom and P, making a comment on how bratty my half-brother had been during the post-graduation family supper, them responding with 'but he's only twelve' and my reaction exploding out of nowhere. I threw the roses I had received on the ground and yelled 'I hate this kid!' storming of on St-Urbain and not looking behind, but not before I ripped my arm away from P who was trying to calm me down. I wondered if he would come running for me during a split second, but it's better that he didn't. My mom might've gotten lost, and I would have channelled my physical reaction onto him.
Like I said, this didn't happen from one isolated moment and honestly it's too long and complicated to explain here, but to summarize, it's largely about the lack of respect that this spoiled kid shows towards his parents, and the fact that he takes them so much for granted even though he's so lucky to have them both around. This is only the tip of the iceberg, but a few friends have remarked that this anger is probably a transference of anger that I have towards my parents, and not actually anger towards my brother. I'm not sure how I feel about that hypothesis.. since I feel very aware of my emotions towards my dad, and they never manifest themselves so violently.
Either way, I got home. My mom was there. I didn't see P's shoes so I thought for a second maybe he left instead of staying over that night. He had gone to try to find me. I called him, he came back. I hashed out some ideas with my mom and by the time he got back I was feeling better. He made me talk about it a little, but eventually just made me giggle. All in all, i'm somewhat glad the outburst happened.. though I wish it would've happened at another time. Now i'm intrigued by this side of me i've never seen before.
My mom was lovely and awesome to be around, and it was nice to have everybody come together around a happy occasion. It feels fun to have graduated. To be done with that chapter of life. I have a feeling of endless possibility right now, which is nice.
I feel like letting out a big 'ahhhhh'.
Monday, June 14, 2010
The Filmmaker and the Librarian Kiss
The other night after my mom told me about her July operation we chatted for a bit and then hung up. Not 10 minutes later, P calls. I'm busy researching the abnormal cells and as soon as he asks me how I am, I fall silent. Holding back gulps, I tell him the news. He consoles me and says he'll be there later. He calls after work and shows up around 1am. He lightens the mood by talking about our mutual friend who recently got a girlfriend (a first it seems). He mentions something about his 'list'. The new girl isn't quite bilingual, he says, and that was one of the things on his list. I ask him what else is on it, he says: bilingual, sporty, and silly. It seems I fit the profile. We talk and giggle about it some more and then it hits me: oh my god, we're talking, really talking, he's being open, honest and lovely. We talk about love more than we ever have before. He says for him, love is something you have inside of you. It's yours. Your love doesn't necessarily die when a relationship ends because it's yours. Obviously, if a relationship does end, there's a point when you have to move on, and you can because you still have your love, it's not shattered and you're not shattered by this person's absence. This is an interesting theory, and I kind of like it. It sort of flows with the Buddhist stuff I've been reading.
Everything I wanted in the beginning of our relationship is now here, right in front of me. Patience. Wow -- it creates miracles. Letting this happen, I like this.
We spend the next day together - have breakfast at Le Zigoto, walk around looking for garage sales (unsuccessfully), then go home hang out and split for our separate social engagements.
We come back together that night after my dinner/movie and his wrap party. We talk some more, about my lack of tact (my words, not his) and he consoles me some more. It's not the first time he's been there for me, he was really there for me when my grandmother passed away, but it's the first time I felt him really there in the moment as it was happening. It's an incredible feeling.
Our other mutual friend Arl is leaving at the beginning of August. He's moving to Mexico to launch his career. His departure is earlier than we thought.. so their plans to make a film together are going to be put aside, and his absence is something i'll have to get used to sooner than later. He invited us to go visit him when he gets to Mexico. P asks 'you want to go to Mexico someday?' pausing, like he's asking a real question and waiting for a real answer, and I answer 'yeah, of course'. Looking into the future (with someone). Pretty nice.
Everything I wanted in the beginning of our relationship is now here, right in front of me. Patience. Wow -- it creates miracles. Letting this happen, I like this.
We spend the next day together - have breakfast at Le Zigoto, walk around looking for garage sales (unsuccessfully), then go home hang out and split for our separate social engagements.
We come back together that night after my dinner/movie and his wrap party. We talk some more, about my lack of tact (my words, not his) and he consoles me some more. It's not the first time he's been there for me, he was really there for me when my grandmother passed away, but it's the first time I felt him really there in the moment as it was happening. It's an incredible feeling.
Our other mutual friend Arl is leaving at the beginning of August. He's moving to Mexico to launch his career. His departure is earlier than we thought.. so their plans to make a film together are going to be put aside, and his absence is something i'll have to get used to sooner than later. He invited us to go visit him when he gets to Mexico. P asks 'you want to go to Mexico someday?' pausing, like he's asking a real question and waiting for a real answer, and I answer 'yeah, of course'. Looking into the future (with someone). Pretty nice.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
New Mantra
"You already are everything you could possibly want to be. You already have everything you could possibly want."
My mom told me she's having some pre-cancerous cells removed in July. This hurts to the core of my being, but she's in good spirits, so I will be too.
Be supportive.
My mom told me she's having some pre-cancerous cells removed in July. This hurts to the core of my being, but she's in good spirits, so I will be too.
Be supportive.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Don't Give Drugs to a Pregnant Woman
Apparently, the use of some drug called Pitocin is extremely common. When mama's contractions (which are normally dictated by the natural hormones of the body) are not "fast" enough for the hospital, they pump this drug through her IV to get things rolling. This causes longer and more intense contractions; very painful. Oh, pain? You don't want to feel that, let's stick a needle in your spine to make everything better. This Epidural slows down labor, so of course, more Pitocin is needed and the contractions brought on by this dose is not felt, because the Epidural has got you so strung out you don't feel anything. All these drugs and amplified contractions can cause problems for your baby, so it has nothing more to do but than to go into distress, ultimately leading to a cesarean.
If hospitals weren't on a schedule, if the medical system wasn't a business. This would not happen.
Tampering with a woman's natural hormones has critical results. The natural release of oxytocin can't happen. The love-high people describe, the one that makes everything worthwhile, the one that bonds the mother and the baby doesn't happen. As one doctor put it: the mother doesn't have the same kind of love for her child, the same level of interest. The way the world is going, can we survive without love?
I just watched an incredibly moving documentary called "The Business of Being Born". After seeing this, and hearing the experiences of women who come to Bummis, I would never want to give birth in a hospital. Watching women have painful, but also somehow serene home births brought me to tears.
The lack of information that is out there is appalling. Absolutely appalling. Considering all the women giving birth everyday, I'm shocked at what kind of hospital procedures are the norm. Of course, sometimes they are necessary, but I think the rate of unecessary interventions should be seriously considered problematic.
More and more i'm becoming interested in the stories of women, less and less about their stories in relation to the men in their life (not completly of course!). I'm becoming fascinated with how they experience the world, how they feel the world, how they think the world.
Why does society hinder our ability to trust our bodies, and to have others trust our bodies? Why should doubt always be pointed in our direction?
I don't understand why people aren't allowed to feel that they already are everything they want to be: able to give life, able to feel love, able to nurture and more.
If hospitals weren't on a schedule, if the medical system wasn't a business. This would not happen.
Tampering with a woman's natural hormones has critical results. The natural release of oxytocin can't happen. The love-high people describe, the one that makes everything worthwhile, the one that bonds the mother and the baby doesn't happen. As one doctor put it: the mother doesn't have the same kind of love for her child, the same level of interest. The way the world is going, can we survive without love?
I just watched an incredibly moving documentary called "The Business of Being Born". After seeing this, and hearing the experiences of women who come to Bummis, I would never want to give birth in a hospital. Watching women have painful, but also somehow serene home births brought me to tears.
The lack of information that is out there is appalling. Absolutely appalling. Considering all the women giving birth everyday, I'm shocked at what kind of hospital procedures are the norm. Of course, sometimes they are necessary, but I think the rate of unecessary interventions should be seriously considered problematic.
More and more i'm becoming interested in the stories of women, less and less about their stories in relation to the men in their life (not completly of course!). I'm becoming fascinated with how they experience the world, how they feel the world, how they think the world.
Why does society hinder our ability to trust our bodies, and to have others trust our bodies? Why should doubt always be pointed in our direction?
I don't understand why people aren't allowed to feel that they already are everything they want to be: able to give life, able to feel love, able to nurture and more.
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